


A Series of Stupid Mistakes

by flowersalesman



Category: Camp Camp (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Beauty and the Beast Fusion, Alternate Universe- David Adopts Max, COMPLETELY PLATONIC beauty and the beast, Gen, Maxvid shippers arent allowed to look at this fic, Slow Everything, Slow To Update, clear and concise plot? don't know her
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-25
Updated: 2018-01-02
Packaged: 2019-01-05 12:47:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 8,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12190281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flowersalesman/pseuds/flowersalesman
Summary: “Max!” the librarian greeted jovially. “Finished with that last book already, eh? Well, I’m sorry to say that we don’t have anything new in store for you to read, dear boy.”“Wow, fucking really,” Max said. “It’s almost as if you’ve only had the same ten books for the last twenty years. I was honestly expecting you to have updated your collection in the few days since I’ve been here. What a disappointment I’m facing.”Or: Max does a bunch of stupid things and ends up getting adopted by an overly cheerful monster. Just his luck.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I was going to wait until I had written this all and then post it as a one shot but it was getting a bit long and also I crave attention so I'm posting this first bit now. I'll probably update this in a week if I remember. Or maybe everyone will hate this and I'll delete it in shame. Anything can happen really.

Max fucking hated going into town.

Everyone smelled like shit and whenever they spotted him they would cheerfully say “hi,” and then immediately afterwards groan to each other about how he was “the smartest boy in town” but “he always wears a frown” or some shit like that. As if he couldn’t hear them. Fucking dimwits.

One time he heard a guy say “it’s too bad that he’s brown.” Like. What the fuck. And did they have to rhyme all the goddamn time.

(He “accidentally” upended a basket of rotten tomatoes on that dude’s head the next day. “Whoops,” he’d said, “sorry, I was just walking by and got distracted by your ugly ass face. Totally didn’t mean to do that.”)

The townsfolk also had a habit of trying to make smalltalk with him. And their definition of “smalltalk” apparently began and ended with the question, “So, what are your parents up to now?”

Honestly, Max doubted that any of them have ever actually  _ seen  _ his parents before. He barely ever talked to them himself.

That day, as he was walking through the streets, he was directly acknowledged at least five times and undirectly acknowledged (through gossiping, specifically) a fuckton more times than that.

“Good day, Max!” a woman trying to juggle five children greeted.

He cut in front of her and started to haggle for some eggs. By the time he left, he was six eggs richer and the woman was six eggs short. Max was planning on eating maybe two of them and planting the rest in strategic places in Campbell’s home so the man would only be able to find them after they started to rot.

“Where you off to now, Max?” a woman airing out clothes asked. “Going to meet with your dear old dad, maybe?”

Max walked past her while flipping her the bird. She either didn’t see or didn’t understand the significance of this gesture, which was really too bad. A man read her a poem he wrote about the way Max behaves or something, which is just real peachy. What wonderful neighbors he had.

Soon enough, he made his way to the only sanctuary the town has—the library. Luckily most people who lived there were dumbasses who didn’t bother reading. He didn’t even murder or maim anyone along the way, with was both a high point and a low point as far as he’s concerned.

“Max!” the librarian greeted jovially. “Finished with that last book already, eh? Well, I’m sorry to say that we don’t have anything new in store for you to read, dear boy.”

“Wow, fucking really,” Max said. “It’s almost as if you’ve only had the same ten books for the last twenty years. I was honestly expecting you to have updated your collection in the few days since I’ve been here. What a disappointment I’m facing.”

The man blinked, then continued, as if not absorbing anything he bothered to say. “Well, no need to be so down in the dumps! Go on, choose anything. There’s no problem with rereading good books.”

“Holy shit, all I’ve been doing for the last few years is read these. I’ve practically got them memorized now. I fucking know I can reread them.”

Max angrily snatched up a copy of  _ The Misanthrope  _ and took off to avoid further conversation. The walk back home was considerably better; apparently, everyone thought they had finished their daily bother session already.

Almost everyone, that is.

He was almost free, just about to walk up the steps to his door, when a dirty arm nearly the size of his torso blocked his path.

“Fancy seeing you here, Mike!”

The man, the legend, the biggest asshole on the block, Cameron Campbell. Of-fucking-course. Couldn’t have a nice walk without running into that dipshit.

Campbell got a humble start hunting game, like most other boys. However, he discovered that he had a greater talent for killing things than all other peers his age, so when he came to be old enough he started selling his services as an escort for people traveling through the open road. A hero, they called him; a fairy tale, a person who could take out twelve bandits with simply his brawn and his wit. Anyone interested in traveling was fighting to see who could hire him first.

...Well, that’s how it used to be, at least.

While still the size of two men, Campbell was getting on in years. Even with his reputation, these days people were reluctant to hire a man who couldn’t bend over without pulling something in his back.

So he’d changed his tactic, to the extreme dismay of Max.

“Sorry,” Max said, “folks pulled in yesterday, grabbed what they needed, and left before the sun even rose. You just missed them.”

“Ha, ha, ha, I wasn’t going to ask about your parents!” Campbell said, sounding exactly like someone who was going to ask about his parents. “I was just... wondering how you manage to keep your garden in such wonderful shape? I’ve never had a green thumb, you see, but I’ve always wanted to have something to... show off? To neighbors?”

Max looked at the small area in front of his house, which consisted of overgrown grass and an abundance of dandelions.

“Well, you know, it sure is hard to maintain,” he said.

“However if we  _ are  _ speaking about your parents-” Max groaned, “-then, uh, have you talked to them yet? About... you know?”

“Dude, stop acting like you’re discussing a drug trade with me. It’s creepy. And also, no, they didn’t bother saying hello to me before they were gone again. Plus, even if they  _ did  _ decide to communicate with me in any way, I would sure as hell tell them to keep the fuck away from you, just because I hate your guts so much. So, if you’ll excuse me-”

Max was interrupted by Campbell, who grabbed the front of his jacket and held him up a little too close to his face.

“Listen to me, kid,” he hissed through a strained smile, “this is my last chance, okay? Your parents are always going places with absolutely no protection, or escort, or even  _ weapons,  _ we would  _ all  _ benefit if they hired me as a permanent bodyguard, so next time they come around you better make them talk to me or I will make sure that you will wish you were  _ never born.” _

And with that, he dropped Max and stepped back with crossed arms, waiting a response.

Max paused. “Wow, that sure was, uh, something, I guess. Threaten ten-year-olds often, do you? Gotta say though, it’d be a  _ lot  _ more effective if I didn’t already wish that I was never born.”

Campbell’s arms fell to his side and his hands turned into fists, and Max had a moment to think  _ maybe I shouldn't have said that  _ before the man let out a muffled shriek and stomped away.

“...Welp,” Max said, “I'm sure that isn't going to come back and bite me in the ass.”

With that, he was finally able to turn around and go in his house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The most interesting stuff is in the middle so if you're like "man I was kind of disappointed but also im a little intrigued" then buckle in folks I promise it will get better. Or maybe it will all be complete crap. Who Knows. Not me.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i was going to update this yesterday but i guess my memory is getting bad in my old age. it was also going to be longer but like.......... im tired. also thanks for all the kudos and comments (except that one guy you're not welcome here) im honestly surprised that i surpassed five kudos with one chapter

Normally, when his parents left for “business,” they wouldn't come back for months. Max suspected that they secretly had at least five other children who lived in separate homes scattered across the country, and it took a lot of work for them to make sure that they were all neglected  _ just enough  _ to feel angry and frustrated and maybe also a little sad at the world, but not enough to try and take revenge or whatever.

So when his parents left that morning, he expected them to be gone for quite a while. It was a great surprise, then, that after hearing a huge crowd gather around outside, he'd open his door to find his parents at the center of the commotion.

The people were whispering to each other about what news they might possibly have, what could have caused this sort of damage, should they be ready to form a mob or what, and other related subjects. Looking at the cart his parents toted around, Max could see that it was missing most of a side.

Max’s dad cleared his throat.

“So, uh,” he said, “we decided to take a... road less traveled, more or less, and ran into some trouble. After escaping we thought it would be fair to come back and warn everyone from taking the same path.”

“What path was it?” a bystander asked.

“You know when you go down that east path, there's a fork in the road?” There was a smattering of agreement. “And you know how everyone always takes the left fork?” More agreement. “We went right instead, but there was a tree blocking the path later on, so we tried to go around it, and boy howdy was that a mistake.”

“What did this?” a woman said. “It could not have been human, right? This cart is half gone!”

Max disagreed. The cart was still mostly there, if more susceptible to having things fall out of it. A single dedicated robber could have chipped the missing side away if they tried hard enough.

Max’s mom started sobbing for the drama. He knew it was for the drama. She always fucking did it for the drama.

“Oh, it was horrible!” she cried. “We entered a land of eternal winter and were accosted by... by...” She sobbed again, seeming too distraught to continue. Her husband wrapped an arm around her shoulder. Disgusting. Max was definitely glad that he didn’t have to live with this shit.

“We ran into a beast,” his dad said, “a terrible beast. It was the size of three men with teeth larger than a hand and sharp as you’d expect. It tried to swipe at us, but luckily it missed and got our cart instead. I’m not sure how long it’s been out there in the forest, but I suggest that everyone stay away for their own safety.”

The townsfolk broke out in alarmed chatter, wondering what to do about this situation- some people wanted to form a mob and destroy the beast, others wanted to continue ignoring the problem, and a few suggested going into the city to recruit a small army. Suddenly, a voice rang out, and all conversation stopped.

“People, people!” Campbell yelled. “I think we should all calm down and discuss this  _ reasonably.” _

“What do you mean,  _ reasonably?”  _ the egg guy asked. Max briefly considered learning his name, since he was a regular customer, but then immediately threw that idea away because he didn’t want anything to do with anyone who lived in a twenty mile radius from his house.

“Well, let’s be real,” Campbell said, spreading his arms in a consoling manner, “that beast probably doesn’t exist.  _ But!”  _ The angered cries that started died down.  _ “But,  _ if you really  _ were  _ worried about running into this so-called monster, then the best course of action would be to hire  _ me,  _ Cameron Campbell, famed adventurer and escort, able to down twenty men in a single punch-” someone yelled  _ what I thought it was twelve  _ but was ignored, “-to lead you through the danger.  _ You  _ don’t have to worry about getting ruthlessly slaughtered, and  _ I  _ get filthy rich! Yes or yes?”

_ “What?! _ What’d you say?! Speak up, I can’t hear you!” an old woman at the back of the crowd yelled.

Campbell clenched his teeth. “I  _ said,  _ hire me to protect you and everyone’s happy. Capiche?”

“What do you mean,  _ ‘hire’  _ you?” some guy that Max definitely knew he hated said. “We’re part of the proletariat! We can barely feed ourselves! Now  _ if  _ we want to do something, we should band together to take down the-”

“Stop talking about revolutioning against the bourgeoisie George, no one cares.”

“Yeah well you’re  _ gonna  _ care when you’re all-”

Max’s parents were gone. If he had to guess, they’d been gone ever since Campbell decided to make an appearance. They had probably already unloaded whatever was left in their cart by then.

So he turned around, took a deep breath, and walked in his house to meet them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i may or may not update this again next week. We'll Never Know.


	3. holy shit i just realized that there's a 255 character limit on the chapter title. isn't that crazy. i can make these things longer than a twitter post, damn. who needs that many characters for a title of any kind? alternian trolls maybe ha ha ha im funny

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> okay i used up every single letter i could on that title BUT there's a fuckin 1250 character limit on THIS thing holy shit. one day im just gonna leave the chapter in this summary box since i never really write long chapters. the chapter note boxes can get like 5000 characters which is even longer but what the heck am i going to do with that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i was going to post this yesterday but i didn't... im sensing a pattern
> 
> also im honestly shocked by the amount of people that seem to like this. i mean damn. yall excited for the dadvid and the dad himself hasn't even shown up yet.

Max’s parents were in a heated discussion when he entered- apparently, they had already put all their cargo away, and advanced to what Max liked to call “pissing on each other.”

“The cart can be fixed within the week,” his dad said. “We’ll pack up, leave, take the other route-”

“Are you an idiot? We nearly got  _ killed-” _

“And that won’t happen if we go the other way! It adds about half a day tops, we’ve never had any trouble  _ before-” _

“Listen, we have the funds, we can hire that Campbell guy, it’s just a precaution-”

They kept going like that, back and forth, interrupting each other to add their own points, though Max doubted that they even really heard each other. His mom stood in the middle of the living room with her hands on her hips but his dad kept on moving around the house to rearrange small items.

“Uh, hey, guys,” Max said. They didn't acknowledge him.

“Child here,” he tried, but he couldn’t even hear himself over the sound of his dad opening and slamming cupboards.

“We shouldn’t spend money if we don’t need to,” his dad said, “it’s common sense, you-  _ god _ , why isn’t there any food in this house? Max, we left you that money for a  _ reason,  _ you can't just squander it for your own gain."

"Dear, he's ten, he doesn't know what squander means."

Max did actually know what squander meant, fuck you very much, but he was pretty sure that they wouldn't hear him if he tried to tell them that.

"I bought enough food for myself," he said. "I didn't fucking know you expected me to be a catering service too."

His mom seemed displeased with the state of the house too by that point, judging by the frown she cast around the room.

"Max, dear," she said, "why is everything so  _messy?_ Can't you pick up after yourself?"  


"You realize that half this shit is stuff you guys left lying around because you always have to leave in 'such a hurry.'"

Apparently she was just getting started, though. She ran a finger over a chest in the corner, and pursed her lips when she came back with dust.

"Sweetie, we trust you to be able to take care of the house while we're gone-"

"I never fucking  _asked_ to be left-"

"Are there  _mice?"_ his dad said. "God, Max, I thought we agreed that you could take care of yourself. You don't want to have to come traveling with us, do you?"

Max stared at him, astonished. Then he said, "I mean, if you  _wanted_ me to come with you, I wouldn't-"

"Sweetie," his mother told him with her lips pulled back to show teeth, "you wouldn't want to come with us. We've talked about this, remember? Mommy and Daddy have to _work._ You can't be running around asking for us to play with you all the time. What we do is  _very boring."_

"We've never talked about  _anything,_ you-"

"Max, don't talk back to your mother," his dad said sternly. "We both work very hard to support you; you need to  _respect_ us. That means doing what we say without question, do not talk unless you are talked to, and keeping the house in working order. Step up your game, boy. It's the least you can do."

He stared at his parents. The moment they realized that he was in the room, they dropped their argument to point out all the things he was "doing wrong," despite the fact that they rarely talked to him enough for him to even have a  _fraction_ of an idea of what they wanted him to do before. His eyes stung and his throat clogged, and he wanted to scream so bad and he could feel his stubby nails dig into his palm with how hard he was clenching them.

Max was  _so angry_ and they didn't even have any idea why he might be feeling like that.

_ "Fuck _  you," he said.

"That is  _it,"_ his mother said. "Go to your room, Max. I don't want to deal with you anymore."

He thought about staying and trying to yell at them. But his parents never listened and he was afraid of what they might do if he got them  _really_ angry.

So he turned away from them and stomped to his room.

The moment he heard them start yelling at each other again, he opened his window and crawled out.

Max had a plan, and that plan involved stealing a goddamn horse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i use italics the same way american comic book writers use bold- that is to say, for _**extreme emphasis**_
> 
> i've decided to reply to comments from now on to show my appreciation for them so be prepared to see my trash face around
> 
> also chapters may or may not get longer. no promises but we're getting kinda close to The Good Shit.
> 
> ALSO also I made a side blog in case I ever felt like reblogging camp camp stuff and if you want to go there and chat with me the url is campcampistrash (note: it's pretty much empty)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i was sick last week (i think the vegans poisoned me) so i didn't write this chapter until now. sorry about the delay and continued shortness of chapters.
> 
> anyway i am like... so honestly shocked by the amount of people interested in this???? im not a very good writer why are you guys complimenting me
> 
> and lastly this fic was actually supposed to be for dadvid appreciation week but while writing it i was like "well shit this is gonna be long" so i started posting early

The forest was darker than he thought it would be. Max couldn't really see where he was heading, but luckily, the horse knew where to go.

When they came across the fork in the road, it tried to go left, and he had to tug on the reins to correct it. It whinnied and shuffled nervously and Max wondered if it remembered what happened last time it went that direction. Then he immediately felt like slapping himself because, hello, why else would the damn thing be nervous about this.

But the horse knew what was good for itself and listened to Max’s urging, though a little reluctantly

It was a long time before they ran into a fallen tree blocking the path. Looking around, he could see that there was a break in the brush that might have been large enough to have pulled a cart through if you got creative enough. So Max tried to lead the horse that way.

The horse... would not move.

“Come on you piece of shit,” he said, “move.”

It didn’t listen.

“I am _not_ getting off you now. Remember how fucking long it took for me to get on you in the first place? Nuh uh. Not gonna repeat that. Start walking and save us both the trouble.”

The horse stayed stock still, and, out of options, Max tried kicking its side. Repeatedly. That reluctantly made it go through the path around the tree, which made it easy for Max to ignore the guilt he totally didn’t feel.

Just as expected, the forest continued beyond. There was no fucking “eternal winter” shit, there was no _“beast,”_ and Max could go back home and tell everyone that his parents were bat-shit crazy so they’ll throw them in a mental asylum or something. They probably even destroyed their own cart so their sob story would be more believable.

All he had to do was turn the horse around.

However, Max had no idea how horses worked. He’d never even ridden a horse before; he had to build a stepladder of nearby objects to even get on the damn thing, and after he flung himself over its back the first time he realized that people usually put saddles on them first, so he had to slide off and find out where they put the damn thing. He’s still pretty sure he did something wrong when putting it on; the horse looked uncomfortable. Not that he knew anything about horse facial expressions.

Maybe Max was projecting.

The point is that the only reason he was able to make it that far in the first place is because the horse knew the way beforehand, and he had no goddamn clue how to make it stop and turn around. When he pulled the reins one way, the horse shook its head and made him lose his grip, as if to say _“fuck you, you’re the one who wanted to go this way so we’re fucking going.”_

Max set his head in his hands and groaned. He wished that there was a surface nearby where he could repeatedly hit his skull, but last he checked, he was still in the middle of the forest riding a goddamn rebellious horse, so-

Wait.

Max lifted his head and shivered, and his next breath came out in fog.

Apparently, some time in the last three seconds, the forest he was meandering through turned into a place that one might describe as being “eternal winter.”When he whipped around to look behind himself, he couldn’t see a sign of the sort of environment he came from. A hazy fog made everything look indistinct and he almost felt like he was trying to look through translucent glass.

He faced forward and grabbed hold of the reins again and desperately started pulling, and Max wouldn’t say he was  _ panicking  _ exactly but he sure as hell was trying his damn hardest to  _ get the fuck out. _

The horse snorted and shook its head and kept going.

“What the FUCK is wrong with you?!” Max yelled. “Did you fucking  _ forget  _ the goddamn traumatic experience you had here?!  _ You  _ should be the one running like you’re exactly as disappointing as you were always afraid you were, you shithead!”

He started kicking its side again, but that made it trot even faster, so he stopped.

"Listen you week old regurgitated puddle of vomit, I admit that  _maybe_ I was proven wrong about the snow stuff, but I don't want to test if my parents were telling the truth about whatever beast may or may not live here. Stop being so fucking reticent and work wi-"

Max was interrupted by a distant howl and the horse just  _took off._ It was all he could do to not scream and keep hold of its neck.

The winter scene flew by in a blur, and after a few seconds Max could hear the paws from a pack of wolves pounding the ground behind him in chase. The horse was desperately trying to run as if it didn't have a small ten-year-old hanging desperately onto its neck, which made it very hard for him to keep hold and not fall off and die.

The wolves were catching up. Max was going to die, he was going to die for the stupidest fucking reason, he didn't even get to-

A roar sounded some distance in front of him, and Max lifted his head and thought  _wow, great, another way to die_ just in time to get hit hit in the head by a passing tree branch.

He held on to consciousness long enough to see the blurry figures of wolves surrounding him, and heard another roar right at his back.

Max was thankful that he was going to pass out before he had to experience being eaten alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i live across from a horse ranch. i still have no idea how horses go. im so sorry if you happen to know how they do, for this must have been an incredible pain to read. in fact im sure it must have been an incredible pain to read regardless of whether or not you know how horses be. im so sorry.
> 
> ~~confession: i've also been rereading homestuck recently and im afraid that i might be writing max like karkat~~


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im sorry i keep coming late with short chapters,, i have a busy adult life. also im bad at writing and it's hard. sorry in advance for any confusion or mischaracterization this chapter might display. the last half is probably worse because i need to get to class pretty soon and im in a bit of a hurry.

Waking up after being knocked out is distinctly different from waking up after going to sleep. More so, arguably enough, when one had expected to be dead by that point.

At first, Max didn’t even realize that he was gaining awareness. There was a feeling of lying down, being warm, blurry colors seen from cracked eyes, but he didn’t process any of it. Eventually he came to himself enough to realize that not only was he sleeping, but that he was in a place where _he definitely should not be._

Last he checked dead people were usually left in coffins, or in a heaping pile of torn flesh in the middle of the woods where no one will ever find you. Places like that.

Max’s eyes were closed, but he wasn’t unconscious anymore, and he felt so comfortable that he briefly entertained the idea of being in some sort of heaven before he realized that there wasn’t a snowball’s chance in hell that any god would let him in there. He turned on his stomach and smushed his face into the pillow because he decided, fuck it, he’s comfortable and warm and he may or may not be dead so he might as well sleep forever.

He stayed like that for a while, becoming more and more aware of his surroundings while pretending that he was sleeping, when a voice next to him whispered, _“Psst.”_

Max pointedly did not react.

‘Hey,” they continued, _“psssssssssst._ Hey. Wake up.”

“Oh my god, stop,” someone else said. “He’s probably dead and we’re not supposed to be here anyway. Let’s just go.”

“Heck no. I’m bored as hell and I totally saw him move just a second ago.”

“Did not.”

“Did too.”

“Did- _holy shit he just moved.”_

Max had unconsciously shifted so his muscles wouldn’t get too stiff. And shit, whoever was creepily spying on him had noticed, apparently. The extreme need to get away fast was rapidly growing. If he was wearing his jacket, he would-

And at that moment, Max realized that he was dressed down in pajamas, and his favorite angsty black jacket was missing. Fucking nice.

“Come on, wake up,” the person—sounded like some girl—said again.

“Stop that, holy shit, let him sleep.”

“Why are you so against this, anyway?”

“We’ll get in trouble.”

She snorted, and said, “What, you’re telling me that you’re actually _afraid_ of getting in trouble with _Mr. I-Love-Niceness-And-Being-A-Pushover?”_

“No, I’m afraid of getting _Ms. You-Annoying-Little-Shits-Better-Not-Wake-That-Kid-Up-Or-I-Swear-To-God-You’ll-Regret-It_ getting angry at us.”

“Fair point, but consider: it’s been boring as hell for a while now.”

In the brief silence that ensued, Max attempted to scoot to the side of the bed where the voices weren’t coming from, and inopportunely noticed that his leg was wrapped up in some sort of splint. Which meant his leg was probably broken. In retrospect, having some sort of injury from falling off a horse running at full speed was not incredibly surprising.

“All right, fine. Let’s do this then,” the second, nasally voice said.

Then the loudest goddamn bell chime that Max had ever heard sounded out through the room, and he fucking _screeched._

Just like that, his “play dead” plan flew right out the window, and “Plan B: Defenestration” was born. All he had to do was get up and walk over to-

Wait. Shit.

“HEY KID STOP IGNORING US!” the girl yelled. Max, who had sat up and stared blankly in front of himself in surprise, turned to his left to finally see who the  _ fuck  _ was watching him while he was sleeping.

There was no one. Great. Now he’s as crazy as his parents.

“Down here, dumbass.”

“Hey, fuck you nose breath,” Max replied on reflex, and moved his gaze to the floor.

“Wow, nice rebuttal,” an odd stylized clock told him. “It would work a hell of a lot better if I actually  _ had a nose  _ though, you dingus.”

“What the  _ fuck,”  _ Max said. At least the loud as hell bell chime made sense, but seriously, what the  _ fuck,  _ and also there was a literal fire hazard next to the damn thing, and also  _ that started talking to him too what in the seven hells is going on. _

“Is he listening to me, Neil? I don’t think he’s listening to me,” the openly burning candle said, seriously, that is messed up.

“He might need a little time to process his situation right now,” the clock told her. Max heard the thing’s name. He refused to acknowledge that inanimate objects could have legitimate names. Animate inanimate objects. Fuck.

“Process what?”

“Are you fucking kidding me Nikki.”

“No, seriously, what? What could he have to process or whatever?”

“Listen, I know that living in the castle like this has kind of become the norm for all of us, but-”

Max interrupted him and said, “Okay, shut the hell up, one of you is going to tell me  _ how the hell I got here  _ and  _ where the hell I am  _ or I fucking swear I will fling either the two of you or myself out the nearest window.”

“Oh man, do that anyway,” the candle said. “I need to know if I can survive that. I’m ready. Let’s go. I want to test my limits.”

“Nope,” the clock said, “bad idea. Do not. This is probably a really weird situation anyway, so how about we all just introduce ourselves and get through all the necessary exposition. And  _ after  _ that we can go fuck shit up. Capiche?”

Max thought on this a moment. He didn’t want to give them his name, but hey, fuck it, he needs answers.

“Alright, fine,” he told them, and leaned back against the plush pillows behind him because he had better get a goddamn good story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> one time i had a really bad case of the flu (bad enough that maybe i should've gone to the doctor in retrospect) and at some point i woke up in the middle of the night on my bathroom floor with no memory of how i got there and that's kind of how i described the way max woke up
> 
> i am honestly real nervous how you lot are gonna take the way i did the animate inanimate objects thing,, not to mention the overall plot,,, gosh i hope i do not disappoint
> 
> next chapter SHOULD be out very quickly! however, it will also be very short. it's the equivalent to the very beginning of batb where theyre explaining how on earth the beast got into that mess. so uh. not much sorry.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey, good news, i just typed this all out. it's pretty short, as promised. it may bring up more questions than answers. i promise you that i know what im doing. kind of.

Alright, listen up Max. Wait, it was Max, right?

_ I just told you my name two seconds ago. Don’t try and act like you don’t remember it,  _ **_Neil_ ** _. _

Hey, I was just making sure. Anyway, so once upon a time and such there was a kid who lived in this castle. He was, like, prince adjacent, I think. I don’t really know the entire story concerning that; you’d have to ask an adult.

So one night, there’s a knock on the front door. Little prince boy opens it, sees an old woman, and-

_ Let me guess: she wants to stay the night because it’s cold out and she’s old and frail or whatever. _

Wow, just what I wanted. To be interrupted at least twenty times while trying to help you understand the situation. But yeah, you’re mostly right,  _ except  _ she offered a rose in exchange for shelter. Would never have guessed that one, would you, smart guy?

_ Dude, chill. The “old woman” thing isn’t exactly rare or unique. _

Yeah, well I’m the one telling the story—not you, not Nikki-

_ She isn’t even here man, you made her leave- _

_ -me.  _ So shut your trap and let me get on with it.

...

...

Okay. Good.

So this old woman offers a flower in exchange for a night’s stay and some food. Little prince-ish boy basically says “stranger danger” and is about to slam the door in her face but, surprise surprise, she’s a witch.

The witch is like “you have wronged me, you are a horrible person, I know that you’re like ten years old but you should already have the morals and decision making skills of an adult due to your royal heritage, blah blah blah,” and she turns him into a beast, and then as a cherry on top she turns everyone else who lives in the castle into some form of inanimate object, but even  _ after  _ that she decides that there’s still shit to be done so she turns the surrounding landscape into some winter wonderland, and for some reason there’s this huge pack of wolves that live around here? I honestly have no idea why that’s a thing.

_ So, basically, this is all... a curse? _

Yeah, pretty much. It has to be broken by the time David turns 25, I think, or else we’ll all stay like this forever.

_ Wait, who’s David. _

The prince adjacent dude who’s the center of the story.

_ Okay, so you really have no idea about the “prince adjacent” thing? Is he actually some kind of prince? _

Uh... technically, no? It’s weird, man, like I said I don’t understand it. Any other obnoxious questions you want answered?

_ Hey, fuck you, don’t act as if this isn’t the most confusing shit on this side of the country. And as a matter of fact, I  _ **_do_ ** _ have more questions. _

Ugh. Fine. What is it.

_ How long has it been since the curse thing began? _

Well, David was like ten when it started, and now he’s 24, so... okay, that means it’s been fourteen years, but I don’t trust that number.

_ Wait, how old are you? _

Eleven

_ So were you like... born as a clock, or- _

Yeah, no, screw you, I was cursed to be a clock the same way everyone else in this goddamn building was cursed.

_ You cannot be eleven years old, Neil. _

Listen, I literally can’t comprehend the amount of time that has passed. I was eleven when the witch came and I’m still eleven. This is the first time it has come to my attention that fourteen years may or may not have passed and I gotta say it’s really fucking me up right now and I kind of want to go to an empty room and scream for a while.

_ Uh... will you be, like, okay?  _

No. I will never be okay. Look, there are crutches by your bed, you can figure out how to use them yourself. I’m going to leave and... think about things.

_ Al... right. Bye then. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i think i mentioned the time fuckery before? but i want to apologize again for the time fuckery. im not a big fan of this sort of time fuckery but that's just the way this all panned out.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what's up everybody im not dead but i still write short ass chapters. this one is especially bad. im sorry.

There were crutches leaning on the dresser next to his bed. They also happened to be the perfect distance away to be  _ just  _ out of his reach.

Max struggled for five minutes to get them, which was an unholy amount of time. He had to lean precariously over the bed and nudge one towards himself with his fingers, and was only able to get to the second one by swinging his legs over the side and hobbling over to it. Max was glad he was alone in the room by that point or else he’d have lost all dignity.

His broken leg had some sort of fancy splint on it, made from leather and smooth wood. Exactly the kind he’d expect from the oppressive upper class. It was both supportive and aesthetically pleasing.

Using his newfound crutches, Max hobbled to the door, where faint cackling could be heard from the other side. It was a very worrying sound, and normally he would avoid going in that direction if at all possible, but Neil left before he could get all the answers he wanted. 

(He was also very bored.)

With one hand still holding on to a crutch, he painstakingly opened the door, and stepped into the hallway, which was apparently on fire.

_ What the fuck,  _ Max thought to himself,  _ I thought stone wasn’t supposed to burn. _

He promptly turned to go back into the bedroom and nudged the door shut. The cackling was muffled. Max thought of Nikki, who was a literal candle and therefore a fire hazard, and while he had only talked to her for a couple minutes at most, he found himself unsurprised by this turn of events.

“Welp,” Max said out loud, “guess the only thing I can do is sit here and wait to die.”

He did not, however, sit, because despite the fact that he thought he was fully prepared to accept death, he was not prepared to have to lever himself up with a broken leg if death did not decide to come. The only thing he could do that might be even slightly interesting was actually look around his room.

It was dusty, that was clear- the bed sheets look like they were recently aired out, but most other surface was thickly covered, so everything seemed grey. A large bed sat in the middle of the room, and a dresser sat right next to it, doubling as a night stand.

On the left wall was a window covered with heavy curtains.

Max hobbled over to it, and with one hand he grabbed one side of the curtains and yanked. A cloud of dust—presumably accumulated over the past fourteen years of neglect—spilled over him. He started to sneeze and cough and his eyes watered, and he forgot about his broken leg long enough to let go of both of his crutches to try and rub his face.

Luckily, he didn’t fall. But both his crutches dropped to the ground and he was left balancing on one leg, with his eyes and nose still stinging, frantically rubbing at his face with one hand while the other clutched at the windowsill. 

At the very least, Max couldn’t hear the cackling anymore. Whether that meant that Nikki had been caught by someone (something?) else or she had moved on to greener pastures he wasn’t sure. The bedroom was stiflingly hot, he was beginning to notice, and he was starting to sweat badly. It felt like it mixed up with the dust in his face and it  _ itched. _

Max decided that he had a lot of regrets in life. Being born, that was one- thinking he might ever succeed at something he set out to do, he definitely regretted ever believing that. Seeing an animate candle and not immediately thinking  _ “That looks like something that should be supervised.” _

Not realizing that the fucking curtains would be a goddamn haven for every single dust particle in the country.

Eventually, he managed to collect himself enough to look out the window through watery eyes.

Max wasn’t sure what he expected, but it sure as hell wasn’t  _ this. _

The “castle” was more like a small town, if a town could be just one very large building (and a few smaller ones, admittedly). He himself seemed to be in a tower; one of many, it looked like, though his was the easternmost one. Actual  _ bridges  _ connected parts of the castle together, and some of them had to be over one hundred meters off the ground. There were spires, spikes, hundreds of windows and tens of floors, gardens with fountains—Max didn’t think he could really comprehend the size of the place. And every single inch was covered in snow, going back into the forest, farther than he could see.

He didn’t know how long he was going to stay there, but he didn’t think he’d get bored.

A loud banging sound rang out from beyond the bedroom door. He heard a woman yell,  _ “NIKKI! GET BACK HERE, YOU LITTLE SHIT!” _

Max decided he didn’t want to deal with that (not that he could even go investigate, since his crutches were still on the ground), so he went to see if the window had a latch so he could open it. It felt like the heat was making it hard to breathe.

His luck was turning up; the window opened in the middle. He undid the latch and pushed it open, and all the sweat on his face dried when he was hit with the cold air. Max shivered. At least the heat in the room wouldn’t be the thing to kill him.

Someone screamed in the distance. It sounded like it might have been Nikki.

Standing directly in front of the window was getting to be uncomfortable. With one hand on the windowsill, Max leaned down to pick up a crutch, careful not to put any pressure on his broken leg. When he grabbed it, he propped it against the wall so it was easy to reach, then grabbed the other one. With both crutches in hand, he made his way towards the door, thinking that maybe there was slightly less fire now that Nikki was in a questionable amount of peril.

But before he could turn the knob, a woman—the same woman as he heard earlier, he thought—started talking to him from the other side.

“Hey kid,” she said, “your name’s Max, right? Well, Max, I’m not sure if you noticed the fire, but, uh, don’t worry, we put it out. If you actually  _ didn’t  _ notice the fire then seriously don’t worry about it. Everything’s fine now. Yeah. Totally.” Her voice cracked on the last word, and she started mumbling, something about  _ “oh god why does this always happen when will it end.” _

“Uh,” Max said. “That’s good.”

“Sure is.”

“Yep.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Hm.”

“So!” the woman yelled. “Do you just want to hang out in there? It’s safe now, so you can come out if you want to. Or whatever. I don’t know.”

Instead of answering, Max turned the knob and opened the door. He couldn’t immediately see whoever he was talking to, so he looked down and saw...

A book.

Just a book, with no visible title, standing vertically on the floor.

“What?” he said.

“What?” she said defensively.

“It’s just, are you like... and actual book? If I opened you would there be words?”

Max shut his mouth right after asking that. It was, in retrospect, a badly worded question.

“That’s none of your business,” she told him.

Max narrowed his eyes. He wasn’t  _ too  _ curious before, but now it was his business. But he was benevolent enough to drop the issue for the moment.

Later, though.

“So do you have a name?”

“Oh, yeah,” she said. “I’m Gwen. Nice to meet you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> merry belated christmas, happy even more belated hanukkah


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **me, crying:** im so sorry... im so sorry that im the one writing this story. i don't know what im doing. i just want this batb au to exist without me having to make it.

The hallway was scorched black, and the smell of smoke hung in the air. There used to be at least one rug, the remains of which layed sadly singed on the ground outside the room. At one end, there was a small window; at the other, Max’s new bane of existence.

“So you want to show me around the castle,” he said, “but you didn’t fucking realize that I would have to go down  _ seven goddamn flights of stairs.” _

“Listen, it wasn’t my idea,” Gwen said. “Do I look like I can carry you? No. This just  _ used  _ to be the area with the least fire damage, and the main reason for that was because it’s the top of the tallest tower and Nikki had easier places to get to.”

“So... she burns things often?” Max asked hesitantly.

“Max,” she said gravely, “out of all the people who live in this castle, out of  _ all  _ the annoying little hooligans and rude ass bitches, Nikki is literally the last person that should have become a walking little ball of fire. I’m convinced that this was also part of the curse.”

And, just like that, Max remembered where he was—in the middle of a fairytale. Exactly the last place he wanted to be.

“About that curse,” he started.

“...Yeeessss?” Gwen prompted.

“What exactly  _ is  _ the curse? Is it something about true love?”

Gwen leaned back a bit, balancing on one edge, looking almost like she was thinking about her response.

“Kind of,” she finally said. “I mean, classically, those true love curses are always about getting someone else to love you as you truly are, or something. This curse lies entirely on David, though.”

“What the hell does that mean?” Max asked.

“It’s like... I think it goes  _ ‘the curse will lift when you find true love without guilt?’  _ Something like that. I know it’s about needing to feel love without being guilty about it, at least.”

“So... what,” he said. “David has to find some girl he can love guilt-free? She doesn’t even have to love him back? By the way, I’d like to point out that I still haven’t met this eponymous David, who is keeping me captive in his weird castle, I guess.”

“First of all, quit it with that heteronormativity, it doesn’t necessarily have to be a girl, and honestly at this point I’m not sure if it even has to be romantic. Second of all, you can leave whenever you want. We barely know you. We brought you here out of the goodness of our hearts.”

“I thought David was the one to bring me here out of the goodness of his heart.”

Gwen continued, as if she hadn’t heard him, “Also, speaking of David, I have an idea: you wait here, I go tell him that you’re awake, and he comes by and carries you down these stairs.”

“Fuck no,” Max said, “I’m some some shit-ass little fairy princess.”

“No, you know what, I’m going to leave. You can either follow me and not have to get carried out like ‘some shit-ass little fairy princess,’ or you can stay here and wait until David gets wind that you’re awake.”

With that, Gwen swiveled on her spine until she faced the stairs, and began hopping determinedly. It was very slow going. Max wondered how she could have thought she’d be faster than him.

A few moments later he was eating those words because, while he was able to reach the stairs faster, he was unused to having to rely on crutches and took each step very, very carefully.

Gwen, when she reached the stairs, fell forwards and let gravity do the work for her.

_ “Jesus  _ fuck!” Max yelled as a dark purple book tumbled past him. He could’ve sworn he heard her yell  _ “fuck you”  _ back, but it was hard to tell with the amount of warbling in her voice.

For the next hour of his life, that was all Max could think about. Could she feel pain? Could she feel anything? Did she only live with the cold darkness of her mind, now that she was a book? Was she an actual book, with an actual plot, and an actual author? Could she move individual pages?

The more Max thought about it, the more he disassociated. He just couldn’t comprehend living as an actual object. It was a complete surprise to him when he reached ground level, and when he tried to take another step down and met more ground instead, he looked behind himself, baffled to see the winding staircase.

“Took you long enough.”

Max turned back around and saw Neil.

“Neil?” he asked.

“In the... not-flesh,” Neil said.

“Didn’t you go to a room to scream or something?”

“Dude, that was like, two hours ago.”

“Okay, wait,” Max said, holding up a hand (even though it was less effective with a crutch), “you can comprehend hours, but not years? How does that work?”

Neil crossed his arms—or what acted as his arms, at least. “You know, I  _ just  _ came back from reevaluating my entire existence, I really don’t need you to say this kind of shit.”

“...Fair enough.”

They stood there for a few seconds in silence, neither knowing where to go from there.

“So, what’s there to do around here?” Max asked.

“I dunno man,” Neil said. “I usually just take apart things and put them back together. I also try to avoid everyone, but sometimes Nikki kidnaps me for fuck knows what reason. By the way- avoid the kitchen and garden shed.”

“Why?”

“Trust me on this one.”

After Neil said that, Gwen appeared, hopping comically from around a corner.

“Fuck me for going along with this,” she said, “but Max, come follow me.”

“Why the hell should I do that?” he asked suspiciously.

“Well, I went and told David that you were awake and making your way downstairs,” she told him, “and now he wants to... talk to you.”

“Okay, one, why can’t he just come here himself, and two, why the  _ fuck  _ was there a pause before you said ‘talk.’”

Gwen sighed dismally. “You’re going to find out,” she said in a depressed tone. “You’re also not going to like it.”

Max weighed his options. He could always  _ not  _ go—but in that path lies the possibility that  _ “David”  _ would go find him later, and he’d still have to experience... whatever was going to happen. On the other hand, if he went, he could both meet his captor, and get it over with quicker.

“Just go,” Neil said. “Rip the bandaid right off. Don’t let it haunt you longer than it needs to.”

Max hesitated a moment longer, then said, “You know what, fine. Let’s go. Take me to David.”

Then Gwen turned around and hopped off, and Max hobbled slowly behind her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> how the fuck do you write??? i have no idea?????


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yo what's up my name's quinn and it took me nine gotdamn chapters to finally get **the dad** in here. what can i say. im a busy boy.

Max was led to a dim dining room with a table that could easily seat twenty people, if not more. Gwen had him sit at the head. He pointedly set his elbows on the table and scowled.

“Okay,” he said, “what now?”

Gwen, in answer, hopped out through one of the many doors. He was left alone with only his thoughts. And he thought that sitting alone in an absurdly large dining room, waiting for a guy who got himself cursed, was both the most interesting thing to happen to him in his life and also the last thing he wanted to be doing.

It wasn’t long before Gwen hopped back in from where she left. She said, in a bored tone of voice, “I got David.”

Someone whispered behind the door she just came through.

“What?” she asked. “No. I am not fucking saying that.”

They whispered again, slightly louder, and Max noticed two large, clawed hands holding on to the door frame.

“Listen, I’m sorry, but you’re alone here. N- stop, no, seriously, don’t even think of it, just walk in there and introduce yourself like  _ a normal person.” _

The claws left, and Gwen sighed and moved to the side. Max couldn’t tell if she won or lost the argument, but he imagined that he’d find out soon.

From the door, a very big... thing entered, arms stretched out, a grin on its face large enough to show every canine.

The only way to describe it was a  _ beast. _

It—he, Max supposed—had thick red fur, a snout like a wolf with more teeth than one should have, and the claws on his fingers were probably larger than Max’s pinky finger. 

His ghastly appearance was juxtaposed with his outfit, which was about as fancy as one would expect for a prince—a nice green button-up shirt and a brown vest. He was, hopefully, also wearing pants, but Max couldn’t tell from where he sat.

There was also some sort of yellow handkerchief tied around his wrist. A pretty weird place to keep a handkerchief.

The beast walked towards the table with his spread arms, booming loudly, “Why, how  _ wonderful  _ to meet you! My name is David, and I would like to be the first to tell you-”

He stopped at the other end of the table and stepped on a chair, and the singing began.

_ “Beeee oouuurr guest, be our guest, put our-  _ hey now, wait a second.”

...He  _ tried  _ to begin singing, at least.

David turned around to look at Gwen. “Where is everyone?” he asked.

“I  _ did  _ say you were alone here, and David so help me god if you decide to jump on top of the table at any point in time I will murder you myself.”

He put a hand on his chin in thought, looking as though he hadn’t heard Gwen. “I  _ did  _ tell everyone to get to their places, didn’t I?” he said.

“No one listened.”

“Everyone got the papers I handed out, didn’t they? With the choreography and music and such? And I made them  _ promise  _ that they would practice, so I can’t imagine that they don’t know what to do.”

“We burned all those papers in a bonfire as soon as we could.”

David snapped his fingers in revelation. “I know!” he yelled excitedly. “Everyone’s just shy! This is, after all, our very first guest! Don’t know how we managed to get away not having anyone over all these years!”

Then he laughed. And laughed. For an uncomfortably long time. Max felt embarrassed just being in his proximity.

In other news, Max could safely say that David wore pants. They were grey. Thank god for small mercies.

David stopped laughing and, for maybe the first time, actually turned his attentions to his guest. He jumped off the chair and walked over to where Max was sitting, holding out a hand for a shake.

“I’m sorry we weren’t able to welcome you properly,” he said, “but nice to meet you! I’m David, and you are...?”

“You already said that,” Max said.

David blinked and his hand faltered from where it was suspended. “What?” he asked.

“You said your name was David before.”

“Oh,” David said. He scratched his head. “Well, I still don’t know your name!” he exclaimed brightly. He smiled too much. Max didn’t think that someone with so many teeth should be allowed to do that.

“Yeah,” Max answered stiffly, “you don’t.”

They stared at each other awkwardly, David’s smile only getting bigger as the seconds passed, as if to make up for the silence.

“Jesus christ, this is painful,” Gwen said from the corner of the room. “David, his name is-”

“No!” David yelled, spinning and flapping his hands in her direction. “If he doesn’t want me to know, that’s fine! It’s- it’s understandable, even, I mean, he just went through a traumatic experience, and he woke up in a strange place, and I’m not exactly- it’s fine if he doesn’t want to tell me his name.”

Then he twirled back to face Max and clapped his hands together, and he was still smiling brightly.

“I’ll, uh, I’ll be in the kitchen, making sure that dinner’s being prepared, sometimes the folks here forget, ha ha. It’s understandable considering that I’m the only one here who needs to eat, but  _ you,  _ young man, need proper meals, so I’m going to make sure that happens!”

Then David exited through a door to Max’s, and he realized that he felt unreasonably guilty. Gwen sighed.

“Listen, Max, I get it,” she said. “David is... difficult. And, yeah, he’s always like this, and it can be really annoying, but he means well. You didn’t have to be like that.”

“He smiles too much,” Max said. “What’s he got to smile about? He’s been put under a curse that he’s probably not going to be able to break, he’s stuck in  _ this  _ shithole of a place, there are goddamn wolves running around outside- he’s acting as if nothing is wrong and I’m just here for a nice visit or some shit.”

He grabbed his crutches and stood up from the chair, and Gwen moved beside him.

“Maybe you should just try getting along with him,” she said. “It’s not going to kill you. Probably. Plus, he kind of wanted to talk to you about... your current situation. I think you’d be interested in that. At the very least, go tell him your name- you’re going to be staying here for a while and you’re going to be seeing a  _ lot  _ of David. Trust me.”

Max grumbled, adjusted the grip he had on his crutches, and rolled his eyes.

_ “Fine,”  _ he said, “but  _ only  _ because I want to know when the fuck I’m getting out of here.”

He turned and headed for the door that David disappeared through, leaving Gwen behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> describing david made me feel like tara gilesbie herself. but im gay for david so i think i should be excused.
> 
> 8/24/18 note: _i swear im going to continue this i've just been so busy for the past 7 months and i need to get my groove back_  
>  11/11/18: i will update this at some point!! i swear to you!!! So Much Shit has happened but i aint gonna let that stop me


End file.
